Clover Moon Read online

  I was scared of entering my own front door. The children had stopped playing hide and seek ages ago, and were now lolling about the house, with Mildred snapping at them, giving the boys a clout about the head for good measure.

  She glared at me. ‘Where did you get to then, Clover? The kids said you just disappeared. They’ve been up and down the alley calling for you. Did you go and see that doll man even though I expressly forbade it?’ she demanded, her fist clenching.

  I opened my eyes wide in an expression of innocence. ‘Of course not. I went for a walk by myself because I was feeling so sad about Megs,’ I told her. ‘I ended up at the church and I went inside and tried to say a prayer.’

  ‘Don’t give me that rubbish,’ said Mildred, but she looked disconcerted, almost as if she believed me.

  I told the same story to Pa when he came home from the factory, reeking of drink again. He nodded blearily, seemingly fond of me again. I nestled close to him and told him I’d been to the church.

  ‘And I found where my mother’s buried,’ I whispered in his ear. ‘Pa, could our Megs be buried there too? There’s not much room but she’s only little. Please ask if Megs can be squeezed in beside her.’

  Pa nodded. ‘I thought of it before you did, Clover. I’ve already given my instructions to the funeral director. Megs is to be buried in our family plot, as it were. They say she might have to be put atop your ma, but I figure neither would mind that, eh?’

  ‘Oh, Pa, that would be even better!’ I gave him a big hug, not minding the smell of drink now. ‘You’re the best pa in the world!’

  ‘And you’re the best girl,’ said Pa. His voice was slurred but still distinct.

  Jenny and Mary had been trying to persuade Bert to walk, but now they let go of him. They frowned at Pa, while Bert sat down hard on his padded bottom and complained bitterly.

  Mildred’s face contorted. ‘You’re all best girls,’ she said, evenly enough, but the look she threw me was venomous.

  I’d always known she disliked me. I would have to have been a fool not to realize this. When I was small she smacked me frequently, and these days attacked me even more violently. I fingered the wound on my forehead. She hadn’t hurt me simply because she wanted to teach me a lesson or thought me a bad child. She actively hated me.

  It made me shiver inside. I knew there was nothing I could do. I could behave as meekly as possible, forever doing her bidding, but she’d still go on hating, simply because I was me. Of course, I hated her too, but it still seemed shocking that my stepmother clearly wished me as dead as poor Megs.

  I thought of the big book of fairy tales that Mr Dolly had read to me in instalments between customers. I loved the story of Snow White best of all, fascinated by the seven little dwarfs who cared for her so devotedly. There was a colour plate of all seven – small, smiling, hunched over men in strange outfits, very much like Mr Dolly himself. I wanted to look like Snow White. We both had hair as black as coal, but the girl in the picture had pearly skin, full lips as red as cherries, and a beautiful blue silk gown. My face was sallow, my lips were thin and colourless, and my dress was in tatters.

  Now I turned Mildred into Snow White’s wicked stepmother. It was easy enough. I could just imagine her commanding a woodcutter to take me into the woods to cut out my heart. I saw her buying the rosiest apple in the market, injecting it with the deadliest poison, and then tempting me with it.

  I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have a handsome prince to come to my rescue. I had to rescue myself, but I didn’t know how.

  9

  THE NEXT DAY I woke early, before anyone else was stirring. I crept downstairs and out to the privy, and then stripped off my nightgown and washed myself thoroughly at the tap, even my tangled hair, using a handful of Mildred’s carbolic washing crystals. They stung my skin and the water was icy, but I was determined to be spotless for Megs’s funeral.

  I hated putting my dirty old dress back on, but I had no choice. I was as helpful as I could be, suddenly terrified that Mildred might push me back in the cupboard for no reason. I got the range going and set the big kettle to boil, and then laid the table. By the time Mildred stumbled downstairs to the privy, nightgown taut against her stomach, hair hanging over her face, I’d cut the bread and laid out butter and a new pot of jam as well as the usual bowl of dripping.

  ‘Butter and jam for breakfast?’ Mildred snapped when she came back, her nightgown wet down the front from splashing her face under the tap. ‘Do you think we’re made of money?’

  ‘It’s not for us kids. It’s for you and Pa, to keep you going through the funeral. It’ll be an ordeal,’ I told her.

  Mildred peered at me, twisting her hair up into a bun and stabbing pins in it. ‘What are you up to, Clover?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said.

  ‘If you’re still angling to come too, the answer’s no. Look at the state of your dress! And it’s barely decent, hardly covering your knees,’ she pointed out.

  It wasn’t my fault! I was the eldest so I didn’t get hand-me-downs. I’d been begging for new clothes for the last six months but Mildred never took any notice. Still, I held my tongue, knowing she was spoiling for a fight.

  ‘I’ll go up and get Bert changed,’ I said. ‘He’s doubtless sopping wet.’

  I was right about that – and Pete had wet himself too. Jenny liked to play the big sister so she could boss the little ones about, but she was hopeless at looking after them and making sure they had a wee before bed.

  I tipped the rest of the children out of the bed, hung the damp sheet over the banister and set about changing the boys. Pete was subdued, hanging his head in shame, especially when Richie started teasing him for being a big baby, but Bert was in a boisterous mood, flailing at me with his fists and kicking his legs when I laid him on his back.

  ‘Hold still and stop waving that little sausage at me,’ I said, struggling to pin a dry napkin on him.

  The children laughed and Bert joined in, crowing delightedly as if he’d done something very clever. I tickled him and he laughed even harder, his face pink with merriment. When I set him upright again he held out his arms for a proper cuddle.

  ‘Oh, so you’re my friend now, are you?’ I said, hugging him to me, realizing how much I’d missed having his warm little body snuggling up to me.

  I hugged all the others in turn, but somehow none of the hugs felt right. I wanted Megs. I loved all my half-brothers and -sisters, but not the way I loved my own sister. I thought of her now, lying flat on her back in her coffin, so cold and lonely.

  ‘What’s the matter, Clover?’ Pete asked.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Pete. She’s upset about Megs,’ said Jenny. ‘I keep crying for her.’

  ‘Why isn’t she back yet?’

  ‘She’s in Heaven,’ said Mary. ‘I won’t get sent to Heaven, will I, Clover?’

  ‘Not until you’re an old, old, old lady,’ I said.

  Mary giggled at the idea of being old and started hobbling around the bedroom, her back stooped.

  ‘Oh, Mary, don’t!’ said Jenny. ‘You’re walking just like the crookback dolly man.’

  Pete and Richie laughed and started doing the silly walk too.

  ‘Stop it!’ I said fiercely. ‘You’re not to mock like that. It’s very unkind. Mr Dolly’s a lovely kind man. He can’t help the way he walks.’

  ‘He’s scary,’ said Jenny, shuddering. ‘Ma says he gives her the creeps and she’ll give you what for if you go to his shop again.’

  ‘I don’t care what Mildred says. She’s not my ma,’ I said, starting to brush Jenny’s hair a little too vigorously.

  ‘Ouch! You’re hurting. I’m going to tell Ma you said that,’ Jenny threatened.

  I took hold of her. ‘You won’t really tell, will you, Jenny?’ I asked.

  ‘I could,’ she said, wriggling. Then she smiled at me. ‘But I won’t.’

  ‘That’s a kind girl. Come on then, all of you. Let’s go an